


Corpses and Roses

by SnailDitz



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: (And by "slight" I mean nothing worse than what's already in canon), Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied Unhappy Ending, The Law of Cycles, possible anachronisms, slight gore, slight incest subtext (because lapin), tart magica spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 23:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21024233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnailDitz/pseuds/SnailDitz
Summary: Upon the loss of her dear Corbeau, Lapin is reminded of her reason for being.





	Corpses and Roses

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick Lapin-focused thing inspired by me wondering how the Law of Cycles factors into her powers. 
> 
> Also, I know nothing about the 1400s. I tried where I could, but the time period isn't the focus of the piece, so I didn't stress it too much and urge you to do the same.

Corpses. Sickening, bloody things: guts spilling out, bone poking through, limbs strewn about, the agony of death being forever engraved on each fallen soldier’s face. And, most importantly, the stench of death; the strong smell of gore and rot that soaked from one’s nose to the gut and spread through the entire body, causing the deepest sense of illness. There was nothing quite like it. Quite like any of it. 

Horrible, mangled corpses like that… they were one of Lapin’s favorite things. Anyone with the nerve to oppose her dear family needed to be put in their place, an act which she relished in. Human scum’s dying screams like the songs of children at play, the blood on her pale clothing so lovely, shattered dolls strewn around her playroom, the tension and fear in the atmosphere making her giddy with excitement until she just wanted to _ explode _from all the fun. Carnage, the decimation of foes and the weak, was both her dear mother’s will a symbol of the love shared among their family. Lapin and her sisters had devoted themselves fully to Mother; there was no greater joy, no stronger connection between the three, than the dying’s suffering. 

Beauty lied in horror. A peaceful body, pristine, whole, as if sleeping, would be the ugliest sight.

This fact sank its claws deeper and deeper into her and she realized what Minou had returned with. 

Lapin hadn’t yet fully awoken from the beating her witch had received; her head ached as she became aware she was no longer on the battlefield, instead being home. She tried to remember the battle. Her memories as a witch here always hazy, like she had been told secondhand information from one who herself had only vague memories; Lapin could only recall bits and pieces at first: the scent of roses, the feeling of sun through glass, some dream she’d had while her mind was gone. Unhelpful. This useless memory was no good; she tried setting herself on the right track. She was human, so she must have been defeated, right? Though her dizziness made looking around a challenge, the bedroom she was in seemed no different than when she’d last saw it, so it couldn’t have been that long… Was it the same day? Had those rotten girls with the French bested her? 

That would be_ absurd. Impossible. Infuriating. _

It would be… exactly what had happened. Lapin’s hands curled into fists around the bed cover as she remembered. That disgusting little holy maiden and those annoying flies that buzzed around her had had the sheer gall to defeat her, to humiliate her in the eyes of her family, her mother. She grit her teeth in steadily-growing rage. 

A bolt of pain shot through her head, sending her back into the world of disorientation. Thinking, feeling, raging while she had just become human put strain on her; she knew that, yet she was too emotional, and those French girls too rage-inducing, to ever mind that. Still, the shock had set her thoughts in a more pleasant direction. 

Lapin may not have been able to triumph, but Mother’s will had been left in good hands. Someone stronger, more experienced than her, the image of death itself. Warmth that enveloped Lapin, heavy black fabric that smelled so wonderful, like blood and pestilence, of their hope. A harsh voice that filled other’s hearts with terror and Lapin’s with love. Skin that still felt so soft, even after all the combat it had seen. The precious younger sister that she idolized warmly embracing her. Slaughtering all before them. A sadistic, bone-chilling smile that comforted Lapin as she thought about it, relieving the pain in her head and allowing her to rest her body.

The battle at Orléans had been a fluke; Corbeau was stronger than any swine. Lapin’s hope rest in her, snuggled in a reeking black cloak that was far too large for Lapin’s tiny body. Lapin laughed and curled up on the bed. She prepared to drift off; she was exhausted and needed it badly. Pleasant thoughts about how Corbeau would return with the heads of the detestable saint and her bothersome shadow. How they’d laugh and relish their victory together. How close they’d be as they washed the stress of war away and allowed themselves to just enjoy their sisterly bond in the glow of victory. It would amazing. 

The sound of magic, the sound of heels against tile, Lapin was suddenly snapped out of her dosing dream. 

Groggily, she sat up. Minou was there. Minou was carrying something. Minou was carrying someone. Lapin still wasn’t thinking clearly; her sister was approaching the large, canopied bed, and…? She laid the person down. Black and white and grey and, and, and…? No movement. No breathing. Why… what? 

Lapin’s hand slowly, shakily reached out and came to rest on the upper chest of the body. Something was missing. Something should have been there. A glowing grey brooch should have been there. _ Corbeau _should have been there. 

Minou seemed to be saying something, but it was as if she were underwater, words meaningless sound that hardly reached Lapin’s ears. Those words weren’t important; in that moment, nothing existed but Lapin and the corpse next to her.

No, it would be wrong to call this a corpse. Corpses were hideous, disgusting, messy, gorgeous. All humanity mangled right out of them. Corbeau was too pristine. Lapin took a hand wrapped her fingers around those of one of Corbeau’s hands. The hand looked so perfect, yet… cold, stiff, nothing like the rough, warm feeling they should have. It was cruel how perfect her body was. All her in a single piece, no blood seeping through her clothing, face still perfectly recognizable. Oh God, her face... why was there so much despair in those unclosed eyes? Why would someone make her dear sister so upset? Why would someone steal her beloved sister from her? Why would a revolting, heinous devil have the right to…

Trembling, Lapin buried her face in Corbeau. She took in the smell of that cloak, of the proper order of things, of what should have been reality. Why couldn’t it have been? Her shaking grew more violent as the cherished stench flooded her brain, taunting her with how unfair it was. Outrageous, unfair, an injustice. Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting. Too much to bear.

Her shaking body sprung to life, her rage freeing itself in the form of bursts of magic and limp-bodied lashing from her body. Beams of pink light, sending furnishings everywhere, sickles being dug into whatever she saw, hot tears covering her face. 

“_I’ll destroy them!_” Lapin’s head was pounding worse than ever; she was barely in control of her body, unable to see or hear anything except rage. Her soul gem had just been purified by being beaten out of her witch form, but it already seemed to be at its limit again. Not that Lapin remotely cared. “_Rip their filthy limbs off and watch them bleed out!_” Slashing at a painting, kicking over a table, sending everything on it flying. “_Gouge their hideous eyes out and—!_”

“_Sister! _” Minou’s voice was sharp; it pierced Lapin’s fury just long enough for her to realize what she had done. She froze in place. Minou had raised an arm in front of herself, clearly in defense; the glove on that arm was torn, revealing a bloody, bone-deep gash. Lapin looked to the sickle in her hand, fining it bloody. Why… how could she had lashed out at Minou? How could she hurt her sister?

Minou’s face was stony and unreadable, eyes hidden behind her mask, as she stared into her older sister.

“I understand how you feel, but aimless rage will do nothing for us,” her voice was quiet, icy calm as she reached to pet Lapin’s hair. “Think of the ones who’ve taken something dear to us; focus on them, walk towards them without distraction. Mother will guide us towards our revenge, but for now, we need to act with purpose. Hold your rage, dear sister, until it’s ready to be unleashed on those who’ve stolen her from us.”

“Minou…”

Lapin was pulled close, her face pressed into her remaining sister’s body. A cold feeling filled her as she felt blood from the unhealed wound run down her back as she was hugged. Minou’s perfume filled her nose, dizzying her, drowning out Corbeau’s scent. No, she didn’t want to lose that yet, please… the sweet, floral scent, so pure, refined, and clean, made her feel ill, yet… it felt like the only thing she could grab at, the only thing holding her onto this earth. 

“The girl in black played dirty; Corbeau fell into her trap. It’s unforgivable.” Corbeau’s 'black beauty' that she’d been so excited to fight. Of course that girl couldn’t defeat her, of course a trick had been used, of course it was unfair. Unfair. Unfair. _ Unfair. Unfair. Unfairunfairunfairunfai— _

Lapin knew it was enough to make her explode in rage again, yet she couldn’t move. Despair had leaked into her body, pooling between each and every tissue, icy cold, and had frozen, locking her in place. Minou’s perfume. The smell of flowers. Roses. That dream again, becoming clearer in her mind.

_ In the garden, an ornate glass building where roses grew. Roses around where Lapin sat on the ground. She hummed, enjoying the warm sunlight as she took wire and a small blade, cutting stems and thorns, working on a floral headdress. _

_ Her sisters would probably scold her for disrupting the garden, but of course they wouldn’t really be mad! Lapin was so excited to see how happy they’d be at her gifts to them. To her dear family, Her everything. _

_ It was so peaceful, yet something was interrupting her happiness. Someone knocking on the glass, a voice calling to her, words muffled by the wall. Who? What…? _

Before she could tell exactly where the annoyance was coming from, she was jolted back awake. Minou was holding her, a grief seed in hand. Lapin realize her soul gem’s transformation had been interrupted before her witch could hatch. Stroking Lapin’s hair, a strange, icy masked smile on her face, Minou spoke.

“It’s not yet time.” 

The words sunk into Lapin.

“Remember the pledge we made. Remember our reason for being alive.”

Mother. Their old names, lives, bodies, souls, throw it all away for the woman who saved them. Exist for her. Become weapons in her hands. Lapin grasped her sister’s hand tightly. “You’re right,” She could still feel herself shaking, but she had to listen to Minou. Turn that inferno of grief and anger into a controlled burn, dwell on it, let it grow, and unleash its full intensity when the time came. When she could avenge her love. When it would be most useful to mother. 

The little rabbit was a hothead that overflowed with passion; self-control wasn’t a concept she cared to familiarize herself with, but this was about more than her. This was about Mother. Lapin and her sisters had already shed their identities for her, and would continue to do so. That was their world, their reason for being. Lapin would burn.

“I’m going to kill her...” Lapin’s voice was quiet, stone with the hottest magma flowing just under it, threatening to leak out. “I’m going to kill all of them. I’ll make them suffer for this…” Her breathing was unsteady and her eyes unfocused, gazing in the general direction of Corbeau’s body. “Filth like that can’t be forgiven… It…”

Minou, still calmly wearing that mysterious smile, went on petting her older sister. “We’ll have our revenge, dear sister. The filth will be done away with in due time. Until then,” She pulled Lapin close again, the smell of perfume again becoming intoxicating, “We continue to fulfill Mother’s will.”

* * *

Roses. Sunlight. The dream Lapin had seen again and again, once again. It was a beautiful day, tranquil, with colorful, sweet smelling flowers everywhere, and adorable little birds and butterflies hopping and flittering all about outside the window, yet Lapin couldn’t find any joy in it. She had a deep sense of emptiness, as though her insides had all been removed and thrown into the deepest sea, sinking down into the abyss, where no one could retrieve them. 

Why was it so, so cold? She stared up through the glass at the endless blue sky, the ever-shining sun, and just felt even more lost. Desperate thoughts swirled around. What was missing? Why couldn’t she feel happy like this? What was wrong?

_ Knock. _

Lapin jumped at the sudden sound and felt something sharp sink into her hand. The rose she’d been holding, not yet dethorned. An elegant flower, perfectly formed and a lovely pale yellow color. That warm light gold, just like…

Lapin watched her blood drip down her hand, not looking up as the knocking continued. She didn’t want to see the source of it. Always, every time she went into this rose garden, that noise was there, urging her to leave the gifts for her family and leave this garden. The voice of a girl; words not fully understandable, but sadness apparent in her tone as she called out to her. Please. Please, just leave with her already.

It was just some pesky noise. Lapin never even bothered looking at the one trying to bother her. She was just trying to tear Lapin from her loved ones, from…

Rose thorns weren’t such a big deal, right? Why… why couldn’t Lapin’s hand stop bleeding? 

Staring at the flower in her hand, she felt herself grow more and more chilled. The enclosed garden, a cage of glass. A yellow rose. Thorns.

_ No. _

What the girl in black had said.

_ That’s wrong! _

The look on Corbeau’s lifeless face.

_ A load of shit, all of it! _

Lapin was frozen. The girl calling to her seemed louder than ever. She was making the suffocating emptiness feel even more unbearable. This pain had to be unleashed somehow. In her head, Lapin imagined taking herself out on the garden; sobbing, screaming, uprooting bushes, stomping on blooms, shattering glass. Thorns and shards digging into her skin tearing her apart. Rampaging until nothing, nothing at all, was left. That girl, standing there through everything, waiting for her. _ Are you ready to come with me? _

The scenario was so vibrant in Lapin’s mind, almost a little tempting, but it wasn’t alone. A different story was playing out, this time not a fantasy, but a memory. She ran through that day once more: horrific monster before her, frightened sobbing, joy and relief at seeing her mother’s face, and a warm, pink stone in her hand. 

She’d been granted a new self. To protect her sisters. To save their mother. That was who she was. There was nothing outside this garden for her; it was the only place in the world her soul was even able to exist.

She’d worried so much for nothing! This garden was perfect! _ No one would be allowed to intrude. No one would destroy it. No one would make Lapin hate the flowers in there. _She clutched the flower in her hand tighter, no longer noticing the thorns digging into her. The idiots that had tried to pull her away and destroy this world couldn’t be tolerated. Ugly weeds, how dare they bother her so! They’d pay. They’d experience true agony.

Lapin felt herself fading. Her witch had been defeated? No matter. She was already erupting; nothing they could do would stop her. In the short moment she before she was gone, she turned to stare down the intruder, fist bloody and smile bloodthirsty. She wanted her to know she was unneeded, uninvited, and that Lapin would never let her take her. In the split second she saw her, Lapin saw a look of total sadness, pity, and… resignation? on her face. Whatever, it wasn’t important. Lapin had rejected her. 

Lapin had rejected everything, herself included. She’d wake up, she’d keep fighting. This was why she existed. 


End file.
